Every month it’s the same, if payday lines up with a weekend, and it usually does. It’s like an informal chat, mainly me and the GUYZ just shoot the shit, have a chat, Its mostly me reporting on the usual. current events, the affairs of the earth. This month there was big news, which they had real problems with. Im not sure the guys understand what I’m on about most of the time. Must be my accent. Plus I get the feeling they are just going through the motions, and wait till the end to hit me up for shrapnel for that shop on george street.
( I think they just buy klarty wank mags and that, bunch of grey perverts)
check them. I did an illustration based on my hazy recall. Two of them, usually it’s a squad, and steve- he does fuck all, just tooters about, checking his notes. I think the whole thing is recorded, couple of weeks after I get transcripts of the convo, with sensitive stuff redacted. Mainly it’s names of folk at my work, and any terms that are Earth centric. Usually a trip back to the mothership coincides with a disco nite. The guys don’t get dancing. or indeed music. maybe they are more highly evolved, have left behind primal urges. They are smooth dowstairs. No genitalia.
Not much chat this month, just the usual- a bit of a blether about that Presedential election, the usual confusion over Scottish/rUK politics.
Next month should be a laugh explaining about double-deffo-double discount, new boots (and savage blisters) and a GREAT BIG BRUSH in a fancy craft lamp.